


you and me got a whole lot of history

by dramaturgicallycorrect



Series: all my favorite conversations [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, canonish, history au, marriage pact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5400251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramaturgicallycorrect/pseuds/dramaturgicallycorrect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I Louis William Tomlinson and I Liam James Payne do solemnly vow to get married if neither of us have been married by the time Liam turns thirty.</i>
</p><p><i>He laughs that Liam autographed it instead of giving his legal signature. They'd gotten Harry to witness it, his big block H-A-R-R-Y diagonally across the bottom right corner of the page, because Zayn said they were being stupid and Niall had told them to leave him out of it. </i><br/> </p><p>[Or Louis legally promised he’d marry Liam by age thirty, and it’s time to collect.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and me got a whole lot of history

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bek/gifts).



> To the Prime Minister, Bek, who I do not deserve, who is lovelier than I can say, and who spent a so much time talking to me about this idea that I had slowly started writing it for her in October or something until I knew this was the reason why I had to finish it.
> 
> This is part of a series of Christmas present fics (...loosely) based on songs from Made in the AM.

A couple of minutes after he opens the folder on his computer, Louis knows he's not going to do anything with the decade's worth of selfies in here. That doesn't stop him from spending half an hour pouring over them, clicking through the lot, leaning in to inspect them as if after all this time he'd be able to tell what show they were from. At the end of it his face hurts from having sat in a grin for too long, which he'll never admit to, but that’s about all he can boast. He can't get Liam a photo collage for his birthday. He's not eleven and Liam's not his mum.

He tosses his laptop aside and moves into his den, headed for the box labeled "Lads and shit". Surely there's something in here fitting for embarrassing Liam the way he should be embarrassed on his thirtieth.

He flumps onto the floor, pulls the box between the v of his legs, and starts picking through it. Some of it is fan stuff, pictures and jerseys and other trinkets collected over the years that against all odds he hadn't lost. The rest of it is crumpled up receipts and shit, and notebooks full of scribbled lyrics (well, mostly Liam's scribbled lyrics and Louis' hastily drawn dicks in the margins).

He starts unfolding the pages, scanning them before he decides whether to toss them in the bin or throw them back in the box. He nearly chucks an old carefully folded setlist from Take Me Home Tour, maybe -- Louis' never been that good with the dates, it's all a blur at this point -- but then he turns it over and stops at the sight of his own messy scrawl. It's some sort of letter, he thinks, until he starts reading and his stomach flips. Suddenly he remembers this night like it happened yesterday.

Liam had just broken up with Danielle and he was feeling sorry for himself -- not quite willing to drown his sorrows in a pint like Louis suggested, since he was still harping on that one kidney bullshit. He'd started getting a little blubbery, talking about how he'd never get married.

"You're still a kid, Payno, it's not over for you yet," Louis had said, but his smile dropped a bit at the look on Liam's face. He looked morose, like properly upset, more than Louis had thought he could fix upset. Louis didn’t know how to deal with that, so he blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"I'll marry you then."

Liam froze. "What?"

"If you're not married by the time you're -- when will your world end if you're not married?"

Liam blinked at him, his brows working into a little frown. "Thirty?"

“Wow, okay. Thirty. That seems a bit dramatic, thirty, but okay,” Louis had agreed with a nod. "If neither of us are married by the time you turn thirty, Liam, I will marry you. This is my solemn vow."

Liam's eyes bugged at him, his mouth dropping into a shocked _o_. "Louis," he hissed. "What about Eleanor?"

Louis shrugged. What would she care? If they weren't married by the time Liam was thirty, she sure wouldn't care what the hell he did then.

"El," he called just to assuage him and waited until she glanced over from her conversation with Lou. "If Liam turns thirty and neither of us have been married, can I marry him?"

Liam gripped at his arm in warning, but she had made a face at him and said, "Yeah, all right." So as far as Louis was concerned, that was that.

Looking back, Louis knows she was always pragmatic about their relationship. It was never easy to date him, he knows now. Not just because of the band or the fans, but because he was difficult to date. There's a reason he's not been married either.

Louis glances back down at the page in his hands.

_I Louis William Tomlinson and I Liam James Payne do solemnly vow to get married if neither of us have been married by the time Liam turns thirty._

He laughs that Liam autographed it instead of giving his legal signature. They'd gotten Harry to witness it, his big block H-A-R-R-Y diagonally across the bottom right corner of the page, because Zayn said they were being stupid and Niall had told them to leave him out of it.

He remembers the thought just popped in his head, like the only reasonable solution. He hadn’t spared an extra thought against it. He’d done whatever he thought was necessary to cheer Liam up, and it worked. Eventually.

The more he looks at the very serious and legally binding contract, the more he stands by it. Marriage doesn’t mean that much anyway, not nowadays. He knows plenty of couples who have been together for years and are just as good as married, without the papers.

It’s just like an agreement to spend a bunch of time with the one person, get some good tax breaks. He already spends more time with Liam than he does anyone else. He’s never been overly concerned by taxes so long as someone else was taking care of all that business, but it could be nice.

But if pledging to be Liam’s best mate in front of queen and country and a few of their friends is what it’ll take to make Liam think he’s not missing anything, that he’s gotten everything out of life he’s wanted, Louis would do it.

"C'mon, Liam, it'll be a laugh," he'd said. The amount of times he'd gotten Liam to agree to do something because he'd said it would be a laugh was immeasurable. Liam could never say no. And he didn't.

\--

He's tucked the set list contract into a birthday card that's burning a hole in his jacket pocket.

The party can only be described as a bash, like some shit straight out of the Great Gatsby, soundtrack included. Liam's yard is full of string lights and alcohol and every person he's ever met, all coming together to celebrate him. _Good_ , Louis thinks, _this is right._

It's good until Louis spends an hour at the party and hasn't seen Liam once. He shoots the shit with Andy for a bit, sits next to Niall and Ed as they sit on a sofa together under Liam's massive tree and play their guitars and lead a group sing. Mostly he wanders around, clutching the same cup of some sort of fruity shit that can only be Harry's idea, keeping his eyes sharp on the crowd and listening for the sound of his laugh.

He finds him in the kitchen, debating lightly with the caterer about something to do with quiches. Louis watches as his brows furrow thoughtfully. He's never been the best at sharing Liam's attention, especially having gone the last hour without, so he drapes himself over Liam's back, hooking his chin over his shoulder to shout, "Happy birthday, Payno!" right in his ear. He doesn't care that the caterer looks scandalized.

Liam pats back absently at Louis' face, nearly getting a finger up Louis' nose, and tells the caterer he favors the one on the right.

The caterer bustles off to deliver the quiches on the right and Liam makes for the counter full of wine bottles to their left, Louis carefully stepping in time with him to keep his chest pressed against his back and his chin hooked firm. Just because Liam lets him mostly.

"Are you neglecting your guests to take care of the particulars? Mate. It's your birthday party."

"Is it? I hadn't noticed," Liam says lightly. He carefully measures out a glass of Pinot noir, having traded beer for wine a couple of years ago to seem sophisticated and older. Louis wanted no part of that, teased him mercilessly as he should. "Dunno who else would, don't have a missus."

Louis pulls away, a jerky and awkward impulse he can't fight at the term. He plays it off as a move to grab a quiche off the tray from the left where it lays discarded on the island in the middle of the kitchen, stuffing his mouth full so he doesn't have to answer. It's actually disgusting, he can see why Liam didn't pick it. He leans back over the tray and surreptitiously spits it back out as Liam stoppers the wine bottle.

"How are you feeling on the cusp of thirty-years-old?" Louis asks, leaning his back against the island casually and not to hide the half-chewed quiche from Liam's view.

"Old," Liam says, so Louis squawks indignantly in his own defense. "Bones are creaking, started going to bed at 8 pm. Just this morning I yelled at some kids to get off my lawn."

"You never did."

"No, I signed their stuff and sent them on their way," Liam admits. "But I could have done, and nobody would begrudge me my grumpiness 'cause I'm an old man now."

“Have you quite finished?” Louis makes a dismissive noise, flapping his hand. He's so maudlin, his Liam, always over nothing. "You've got seventy years of your life left, Payno, you gonna spend the rest of it complaining?

"Reckon I'll spend it with you," Liam answers correctly, and Louis nods as he should. "You'll do enough complaining for the two of us."

Louis pats his chest with approval and throws an arm around his shoulder to lead him back out to the party. It’s always a struggle to get him to relax, even though that’s been Louis’ personal mission since they’ve met.

They get Liam to open his presents when most of the party guests have filtered their way out and it's Liam's closest friends gathered around him in his living room, just the ones he’d allow to give him presents. Louis claims the cushion next to him on his sofa, widening his posture so no one else can squeeze in next to him.

Liam treats the fruit of the month club membership with the same enthusiasm as a first edition of the first issue of Batman because he's absurd. At no point does it feel like the right moment for Louis' own. He flies under the radar, flitting between quiet to keep the focus on Liam and loudly criticizing gifts that aren't up to snuff because he is who he is.

Niall busts him anyway. "What have you got, Tommo?"

And. He chickens out.

Well, he doesn't chicken out, really, it's just that he doesn't want to do it here, surrounded for the most part by a bunch of people he doesn't know -- who will most likely end up invited to the wedding anyway, he admits -- dredging up a private old joke and having to explain it to the room. He wants to do it on his own terms, privately, when it’s just him and Liam. There’s a time and a place. And Liam’s not technically thirty until tomorrow. So. That’s why.

"I forgot one," he says quickly. To his credit, Liam just laughs and shakes his head like Classic Tommo. "My presence is present enough, innit, Payno?"

Liam keeps crinkling a smile at him, and he says, "It is," with far more kindness than Louis deserves. So Louis socks him in the face with a throw pillow and calls it a night.

\--

He starts carrying the contract around in his wallet. That’s not weird. He doesn’t carry it around because he wants to be prepared in case the perfect moment present itself, it’s just he’d probably lose it otherwise. That’s one of the only way to guarantee he doesn’t lose anything -- stick it in a box in his house and leave it unopened for five years or keep it on your person as much as you can. He’s kept Liam on his person as much as he can, hasn’t lost him yet.

It doesn’t do him any good because Liam spends four days in New York after his birthday, doing something unreasonable like fulfilling one of his dreams with someone other than Louis without asking permission first.

He’s a right terror until Liam texts him, unprompted, that he’s landed back safely. He feels unsettled when he doesn’t have anything to focus his attention on. Not that he doesn’t have a whole company to run or anything, responsibilities to fulfill, bills to pay, artists to record, employees to employ. It’s not like he’s sitting around waiting for Liam to return.

But now that Liam has returned, he’s ducked over his phone at his desk, watching Liam slowly and painstakingly text him an entire play-by-play of his trip, collaborating with this new producer. When he tries to start describing a melody to him over a text, Louis calls him.

“Liam, lad, use your words,” he says into the phone instead of hello.

“Well, technically I was,” Liam says, and well, he’s not wrong.

He picks up in the story where he left off, but this time he’s singing through it. Louis leans back in his chair, letting his eyes drift closed as he listens. Sometimes Liam just needs that, someone who’s okay being talked at when he’s got more to say than he knows what to do with. Sometimes Louis in the mood to keep up with him, get a bit of banter going, but sometimes he just wants to watch Liam go.

“Besides you never got me a birthday present,” is the first thing Liam says that actually requires his immediate response, in defense of his honor. Slandered just because Liam is trying to guilt him into letting him work with the girls from Formula Three.

“I knew you were going to hold that against me,” Louis says, narrowing his eyes.

“I wouldn’t hold it against you if I didn’t think it would work.”

“That’s sociopathic, Payno,” Louis says before he has to cast around for a comeback. “I’m actually going to take you to dinner tonight.” Louis lifts his eyebrows at his phone, like _what do you have to say about that_ even though Liam can’t see it.

“Oh! Sick!” he says. “Where?”

“It’s a surprise,” Louis answers because he hasn’t got a clue. He’ll figure something, he always does.

\--

"This is nice," Liam says as soon as the waiter's left.

Louis looks around at the restaurant. Sort of a standard Italian fare, if he's honest, he was a bit pressed for time. "Guess so."

"I meant dinner, the two of us. S'nice, we don't do that too much."

"We see each other all the time," Louis says, not a little defensively. He values his Liam time. They'd all gone their separate ways after a while, sure, but Louis' held true to their promise, whispered one of the last times they shared a hotel room. They'd make time for each other, for their music. They'd always make time.

Although normally they’d have to coordinate it through three different assistants, a mountain of schedule checking if they want to make plans during decent hours. Louis figures the best way to steal Liam’s time outside of work first really is to grab him the second he’s landed off a plane.

"At your office and stuff, yeah. With thirty other people. Missed my Tommo time." He reaches over and gives Louis' arm a little squeeze before turning the move into a reach for the bread basket in the middle of the table.

Oh. He says it so easy, things like that. Louis doesn’t know what to do with it. So he grabs the bread basket before Liam can get to it and cuddles it close to his chest. Liam sighs at him and waits until Louis gets bored about fourteen seconds later and relinquishes. He’s too cunning, that one, knows all of Louis’ tricks, knows how little fun it is to tease him when he refuses to get riled up.

He does still give Louis first pick of the bread though.

“Liam, tell me, how’s life? Everything you ever wanted, but nothing you needed, yeah?” Louis asks, innocently enough. “Thirty years old and good to go?”

“Pretty much,” Liam says with a shrug and a smile.

It’s not exactly like Louis was expecting Liam to remember their deal, considering Louis didn’t remember it himself until he’d laid eyes on the thing. But surely Liam’s feeling a void, something he can segue into. A hole Louis can fill. A metaphorical hole, that is -- not like -- anyway.

Louis gets flustered thinking about it and blurts, completely subtly, “It’s just, you thought you’d be married by now, didn’t you?”

Liam considers this for a moment, his face twisting a little like it does when he’s thinking hard about something. “Well. Yeah, I guess I did. Suppose it didn’t happen for me, but it may yet.”

Little does he know, Louis thinks with a raised eyebrow. He’s surprised Liam’s coming at it from such a chilled standpoint, considering how he flipped his shit the last time they talked about marriage. “Do you ever think about it?”

“Not a lot, honestly,” Liam says. “I’d like to get married some day, sure, but mostly I think I just miss having a person. I miss this, I miss being with someone and it’s just the two of us.”

That’s exactly what they could do if they were married. They wouldn’t need anybody else, they’d always have a person around to do things with. They could do the big shop together, though Louis gets his groceries delivered. They could go to the laundromat together, though they actually both have machines in their houses. Maybe not things like that. But Louis would find other things they could do together.

“I miss going on dates, walking someone to their door,” Liam’s continuing. “I miss coming home at the end of the day and telling someone everything I did and listening to everything they did. I miss sharing my life with someone.”

Well, Louis can do all of that. He’s great at listening when he wants to be, particularly gifted at listening to Liam talk. If it’s a matter of moving in together, he can do that too. It’s not like the two of them don’t have more than one house. He can be there. He’s just got to prove it. And then Liam won’t need anyone else.

The first step is walking Liam to his front door after their hours long dinner, which he does. It’s easier to justify than he’d thought, Liam’s just rambling away as Louis drives him home, keeps rambling as Louis puts the car in park and they get out, natters all the way up til they come to a stop in front of it.

“Oh, this is me,” he says around a yawn, like he’s realized for the first time where Louis’ led him, like Louis could have taken him anywhere and he’d follow without question. He chuckles at himself.

“So it is, better get you to bed, jet lag and all,” he says as Liam starts digging his keys out of his pocket. He leans up for a hug, wraps his arms around Liam’s neck only long enough for Liam to rest his hands gently on Louis’ hips. He presses a kiss to Liam's cheek. "Night, Payno," he says quickly and, for some reason, all but runs back to his car.

\--

Louis invites him over the next night, graciously allows Liam to cook him dinner as he sits on the counter and listens to Liam talk about his day. He’s animated about it, swinging a spatula without care whenever someone has done him a great injustice, his face scrunching up when he laughs at his own jokes.

About half an hour in, he stops abruptly, squeezes Louis’ shoulder, and apologizes for monologuing at him. He insists Louis tells him all about his day too, asks him leading questions when Louis tries to get away with, “Yeah, it was fine, nothing special.”

Louis’ spent his years after the band called it quits carefully avoiding any situation where he’d be asked a thousand questions about his life, just to try to regain some semblance of privacy. But when Liam asks the questions, he finds he doesn’t mind.

He’s exhausting to watch, though, honestly, Louis isn’t entirely sure how he maintains that level of enthusiasm at all times, always interested in anything anyone has to say, going full throttle every second of the day. Louis still looks forward to watching him go, though.

It’s the start of something, that dinner. Not entirely an accident, because Louis sees it happening and doesn’t put a stop to it. Some nights it’s dinner at nine when Liam gets off work, other times it’s a weekend trip to the shops to find Niall a birthday present, sometimes it’s Liam bringing Louis a takeaway when he’s committed himself to an all-nighter in the studio.

The nights in the studio are Louis’ favorites, Liam lights up the brightest those nights. He manages to trick Liam into giving his opinion for tracks he’s not contracted for just because he can, and Liam gives freely, so easy and open with his time and talent.

One night Liam brings him a curry a few hours earlier than normal. Louis watches him set the bag down on the coffee table behind him and stretch out in his usual chair at the board. He waves at Liam before returning back to the argument between artist and writer. Some spat about syncopation that’s been raging for the better part of half an hour. Louis keeps giving his definitive answer, but neither of them seem to give a shit.

“Right? Liam, tell them I’m right,” Louis says now that he’s got an ally in the room. He waits for Liam’s voice to sound over the speakers with the agreement he deserves.

“He’s biased,” the writer says.

“Liam, defend my honor. Liam.” He cranes his neck toward the booth, but he can’t see him. “Just a second.”

He finds Liam asleep at the board, his head nestled on his folded arms. Louis kneels down, gets a good look at his face, the deep circles under his eyes, the way his eyebrows look uncomfortably scrunched together. He looks exhausted.

Louis’ eyes flick to the clock on the wall above him. It’s only gone seven. He leans over to the mic. “Think I might actually need to call it a night, lads. I’ve got to get this one home.”

He places a gentle hand to Liam’s arm, rubbing up and down, and calls to him until his eyes slowly crack open.

“Let’s go home, love,” Louis says quietly.

“Sorry,” Liam mumbles, as he looks around like he’s a little confused where he is. “You done for the night?”

“Yeah, we’re done. Up we go.” Louis braces Liam against him and walks him all the way to the car and buckles him up, Liam about as useful as a wet noodle the whole time. The only redeeming factor is that Liam doesn’t seem to want to keep his hands off him.

Louis can’t help but glance over at Liam as he drives. Liam’s face is occasionally illuminated enough by passing street lights that Louis can see he’s trying very hard to stay awake. It’s strange for them to sit in silence. Not that it’s uncomfortable or anything, Louis’ happy enough to just sit with him at times, but it’s not really them, is it. They don’t stop, not with each other, not until they give each other as much of themselves as they can.

“When was the last time you took a break?”

Liam sighs and makes his _I’m thinking about it_ face. “2016.”

“Very funny,” Louis says sourly. Except he suspects it’s not a joke when Liam doesn’t say anything different. “Shit, Liam. You need to take a holiday. Not like a get up and do everything holiday, like, you need a holiday where you sit and do nothing at a place that isn’t your house.”

“I don’t think I’d be very good at that.”

Louis’ pretty familiar with that, Liam’s utter inability to be idle. It’s one of the more admirable parts of him, but also one of the most frustrating. And dangerous.

“Luckily for you, I am,” Louis says, which is true. He can sit on his arse all day. It’s a great place to be.

Then he realizes it’s perfect, the opportunity he didn’t remember he was waiting for. He’d honestly forgotten all about actually _asking_ Liam to marry him, what with them spending the last few weeks as though they’d already done the damn thing.

“We’re taking a long weekend, starting tomorrow, clear your schedule. No, shut your mouth, I won’t hear a single argument against it.”

Liam snaps his mouth shut abruptly, and Louis spends the rest of the ride home going through the massive index in his head of places they can go on short notice.

Sometimes Liam sleeps in one of the spare rooms, but Louis frogmarches him all the way to the master. It’s the only way to ensure Liam doesn’t spend the next three hours on his phone trying out little melodies on the piano app he’s got on there.

Liam manages to kick off his shoes before he flops into Louis’ bed, fully clothed and wriggling his way slowly under Louis’ duvet. Louis makes quick work of his own shoes and his jeans before crawling in with him. It’s not even half eight, but Louis doesn’t care.

“Throwback Thursday,” Liam says, shifting on his pillow so that he’s eye level with Louis. “To bedsharing in 2012.”

“That’s right. You refused to share a bed with me for like two years, do you remember that?”

“No, I didn’t,” Liam says, frowning.

“You did, back when we didn’t get on,” Louis argues, though it seems so distant a memory, so small a stretch of time in their lives that it doesn’t even feel like it ever happened. It’s absurd, the thought that they were ever anything more than best mates, two halves of a whole. A unit, a set, a pair. Liam and Louis -- well, Louis and Liam, more like, partners in every way.

“You said my feet were smelly and I kicked in my sleep.”

“Both of those things were true then and they’re still true now,” Liam says.

Louis kicks him, just to prove a point, but doesn’t move his smelly foot out of where he’s propped it on top of one of Liam’s legs. Again, just to prove a point. Liam shifts his leg around until he’s sandwiching Louis’ ankle between his own.

“What’s changed?” Louis asks.

“Me,” Liam says as his eyes drift closed. “Love your smelly feet now, I guess.”

“Love you too.” Louis pats at his chest approvingly, but leaves his hand there, telling himself he’s too tired to pull it back, even though the truth of the matter is he doesn’t want to let go.

\--

He wakes up exactly twenty minutes before he’s due over at Liam’s to throw half of the clothing he owns in a bag. He doesn’t have time to answer his phone, but he does in case it’s Liam. He slaps accept and tucks it between his ear and shoulder.

“Two minutes, I promise,” Louis says.

“Two minutes until what?” It’s Niall. Louis realizes a few seconds later he shouldn’t be disappointed it’s only Niall, he’s literally about to go see Liam in two minutes.

“I’m running late, what’s up, mate?”

“Ya wanna come over tomorrow night? Me and the lads are doing a cookout, gonna grill up some steaks?”

“Can’t, me and Liam are going on holiday.”

Niall’s quiet for so long, Louis thinks the line might have dropped, but then he says, blandly, “Really.”

“Really, really,” Louis says. He can hear what must be pure jealousy in Niall’s tone. He isn’t invited. There’s a time and a place for a lads’ weekend and this… This is him and Liam.

“You’re moving a lot faster than I thought you would,” Niall says. “Considering you’ve been playing the long game for about a decade now.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Well, you’ve booked a nice getaway at the coast, dead romantic,” Niall teases, except it also sort of sounds like maybe he isn’t teasing.

“I didn’t tell you we were going to the coast,” Louis cuts in before Niall can elaborate, a top notch deflection if there ever was one.

“Mm,” Niall hums thoughtfully, “you sure didn’t.”

“What do you know, Neil?” Louis asks suspiciously.

“Enough. Have a good trip,” he chirps and hangs up abruptly.

Sure, Louis is going to come out of this weekend an engaged man. He knows he’s been lowkey dating Liam for weeks. But it’s just mates, isn’t it. There really hasn’t been any difference now, they just spend more time together. It’s not a big deal. He’s just dated Liam a little, and now he’s going to marry him a little. Because he promised.

\--

He prepares a speech while Liam’s napping. An actual speech entitled Reasons Me and Liam Should Get Married that he writes down on hotel stationary, carefully memorizes, and then burns in commemoration in the ashtray on the patio outside their room so no one will ever see the rough drafts.

He’s been doing well all day, considering. Louis took him for a walk in the sand a bit earlier to work off some of his post-lunch energy before settling him down for a nap he insisted he didn’t need until he actually got into bed and went straight to sleep.

That’s his best mate. He’s going to spend the rest of his life with him.

He sits on his bench and chain smokes while Liam rests. Louis is content to sit and do nothing, really, it’s just he’d rather sit and do nothing with Liam instead of on his own. But Liam needs rest, needs to take it slow, so Louis sits on his own until he hears Liam sliding the glass door to let himself outside after only a few hours.

He leans forward to put his cigarette out in the ashes of his prepared speech as Liam settles on the bench next to him, pressed closer than the length of the bench really warrants. Louis likes that.

“You don’t have to do that,” Liam says.

“S’fine.” He remembers how hard Liam worked to kick the habit, and he’s never had any interest in being the reason Liam starts up again. Especially considering he was probably the reason Liam started in the first place.

Liam reaches up and over Louis’ shoulders, resting his arm half on the back of the bench, half on Louis. He’s comfortable and easy, locking into place where he belongs, where he has belonged for some thirteen years. It really has been a long game, Louis supposes.

“Did you tell Niall we were going on a trip?”

“Oh yeah! Yeah, I talked to him and Harry, yeah, I was quite excited,” Liam says with a grin. “They were thinking maybe we could do this as a holiday together, if we were going to make a thing of it, stay for a while. Haven’t done that sort of thing in years, you know. But I, uh.” He stops himself up and makes a little face like he’s disappointed in himself.

“What?”

“I feel like a dick, god, I love them, like, but I just. I wanted it to be us.”

“Me too,” Louis admits, his voice going quiet at the look on Liam’s face. He doesn’t ever want him to feel bad about being selfish with Louis, because Louis refuses to feel bad about being selfish with Liam. “My Payno Time.”

Liam laughs at the reference, his face pulling into a delighted smile. “Yes, and I get my Tommo Time. So spoiled lately, think I’m going to get addicted.”

Louis wouldn’t exactly discourage him from that. He looks up at Liam briefly watching the ocean crash against the shore before them until he has to turn away, follow his line of sight. He’s hyper aware of the way Liam’s fingers fidget and press against his arm, soaking in everywhere they’re touching like he’s already addicted.

He could kiss Liam right now. It’d be a laugh.

"Hey, Liam," he says, staring out at the crashing waves like they’re giving him strength.

"Yeah, mate," Liam answers, his face immediately open and receptive before he even knows what Louis’ going to ask for.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?"

Liam's mouth drops open a little, his bottom lip jutted out and ready to be bitten, and Louis can't not take advantage of that. "Okay," Liam says softly.

Louis presses in slowly, anchoring a hand around his jaw before capturing his lips with his own. It feels as natural as anything with Liam does, like it’s no less a part of them than the hundreds of stupid inside jokes they share, years of history with the band, quiet dinners at Louis’ flat. Like the life they’ve shared together could only have led to this moment.

He pulls before he should because he’s threatening to never let him go. He’d taste Liam until he got drunk off him, and then where would they be. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can’t actually believe he did that, but the rest of him is fairly certain that’s one of the Top Three Best Decisions he’s made in his life.

Liam chases him anyway to steal a kiss, then another. His hand has somehow made its way to Louis hip. But Louis can’t. He’s got a plan, a dinner, a speech, a contract.

"Okay," Louis says and pats Liam on the chest as a well done. "Let's go to dinner."

“Okay,” Liam echoes, a bit dazed but smiling brilliantly.

\--

He tries to find a way to say some amount of his speech, but ends up blurting it out after Liam takes his first bite of steak. Liam’s been watching him the whole dinner -- not like looking at him accompanied by casual conversation, but properly _watching_ him. Louis knows because he’s been watching Liam back the whole time, looking for that most opportune moment. But his mouth, as per, runs about two miles ahead of his brain.

"Marry me," he says.

Liam chokes a little before he swallows and grins. "Hilarious."

"I'm not joking," Louis says. He reaches behind and fishes his wallet out of his pocket, realizing it should probably be a ring he presents Liam instead of a yellowing, folded piece of paper. But it is what it is.

Liam’s face slowly falls into a frown as he stares at the contract for ages, like it isn’t two sentences long. Hell, Louis’ even got it memorized by now: _I Louis William Tomlinson and I Liam James Payne do solemnly vow to get married if neither of us have been married by the time Liam turns thirty._

“You can’t actually say no, I’ve got it in writing you would,” Louis says. “That’s Harry Styles’ signature, more binding than the prime minister’s at this point.”

“But why?”

“Because you’re thirty and we’ve not been married, Liam, have you read the document? You want to be married, I said I’d do it. I’m a man of my word. I was thinking maybe a spring wedding, although I could go for a destination -- ”

“No,” Liam interrupts.

“No what?”

“No, thank you?” he tries.

Louis blinks at him, his brain trying to spin out all the instances in which Liam would say no to him right now, but he just doesn’t get it. “Are you -- you’re saying no? You don’t want to marry me?”

“I’m saying I can’t marry you.”

Louis squints at him, leaning forward and insisting, “I have to marry you. That’s why I’ve been dating you for weeks. To show you I can do it. You’re my best mate, it’s not like anything’s really going to change. Let me do this for you.”

Liam’s face breaks open with understanding, but his lips don’t curl into the smile Louis is waiting for. "I'm not. An obligation," he says, his voice catching. "That's not -- I didn't think -- You kissed me."

Louis did. And he doesn't know why, but he had to. He doesn’t have a choice. He never has a choice, not when it comes to Liam because he loves him. But now Liam must think they’ve crossed some sort of line, like it’s gone more than just mates now, and even though that’s fine with Louis, it’s not fine with Liam. Louis fucked it up. He had thought Liam was on the same page, but no, he fucked it up.

"Had to practice, didn't we?" he tries to play it off. It sounds hollow and he sees it on Liam’s face. "Come on, Liam, marry me. Marry me tomorrow, it doesn’t even have to be a thing. It'll be a laugh."

"I don't think that's very funny," Liam mumbles, shutting down hard and fast like he does when there’s a confrontation and he doesn’t know how to navigate it.

He doesn’t get this way with Louis, except when he thinks Louis’ done something wrong, horribly wrong and he can’t fix it. He folds the contract up carefully and hands it to Louis. He doesn’t want it back, but he takes it anyway.

“I’d like to go home now,” he says, but he doesn’t move until Louis says okay.

They move quietly from their table, Louis throwing more money than necessary onto the table before following Liam closely out of the restaurant.

“I can call a car back to the hotel,” Liam offers after the valet takes Louis’ ticket, but Louis waves it off. He can still take care of Liam. Nothing’s changed about that.

\--

Louis lasts about half an hour on the highway before he’s taking the next exit. Liam perks up in confusion, but doesn’t say anything. Louis pulls into the car park of a McDonald's and looks at him. He wants Liam to say everything that’s been running through his mind for the last hour. He wants Liam to tell him everything because Liam always tells him everything.

“Penny for your thoughts, Payno,” Louis says. “I’m dying over here.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam answers.

“For what?”

“I’m sorry I won’t marry you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just. I need it to mean something more. It’s not something I’m ticking off a list, like.” He starts ticking his fingers off. “Best job in the world, check, good mates, check, happy family, check, financial stability, check, marriage, check, kids, check. You know? I want those things, but I want them because I experience them. Because I deserve them.”

“You do deserve them,” Louis says. He’s trying to give it all to him. He doesn’t get why Liam doesn’t understand that.

“And I’m not going to be someone you settle for because you think I’ve got to get married. Because. Marrying you wouldn’t be settling. Not for me.”

It’s too much for Louis to parse through at once -- Liam doesn’t think he means it, but if he did think that, he’d say yes? If Louis had just asked him, without the contract but with the speech, he’d have said yes?

“Liam -- you. Liam, I am not settling for you,” Louis says, scrambling for the best possible explanation. "You're a sure thing."

"Look, you’re my best mate and I’d do anything for you, but. I don’t think that’s very fair.”

"No, I mean you're a sure thing for me,” Louis clarifies. “It’s been forty-seven years since I met you -- ”

“Thirteen, actually,” Liam corrects because he can’t not.

“It’s been forty-seven years since I met you,” Louis soldiers on, “and there’s nothing I don’t know about you. Absolutely nothing. And yet I wake up in the morning and all I want is more from you. It was the same then as it is now, and I don’t think that feeling’s going away. When I look at you, I know you’re a sure thing for me. I don’t see a life without you.”

Liam nods, slowly, puts his Thinking Really Hard face on until he’s no longer frowning. “Wish you’d said it that way the first time.”

“I said some stupid shit because I didn’t realize what I meant. I didn’t know how to tell you all that, but I guess now I do because I’ve said it, I’ve just put it all out there. I said I’d marry you and I meant it. I’d make it official. I’d sign a paper. I’d tell the world I want to be yours. So are you going to marry me, or what?”

"No, I won't marry you,” he says after some careful consideration. And that’s. Fine. That’s fine. Louis’ only cracked his chest open to let Liam see his insides -- or some other more romantic, less traumatic metaphor -- and Liam’s still not going to marry him. It’s fine.

“But I will date you,” Liam adds.

“Oh good,” Louis says and kisses him immediately. It’s not exactly as romantic as the first kiss, what with the two of them straining against their seatbelts to get at each other, but it seems to mean more.

“Now that I actually know we’re dating, I’ll be much better at it,” Liam promises.

“Good,” Louis says, reaching over to pat his face, “because you’ve been a rather shit boyfriend to me, I’ve done all the heavy lifting.”

Liam laughs, indignant and incredulous, “Remember that time you asked me to marry you?”

“Mm, fondly. Like it was an hour ago.”

“Remember how absolutely pants you were at it?”

Louis goes indignant, then, making an impatient squawk at him. “Are you going to hold that against me forever?”

“I wouldn’t hold it against you if I didn’t think it would work,” Liam says with a growing smile.

“And what do you want from me this time?”

Liam takes a kiss from him, then another. That seems to be enough for him for now. It’s not enough for Louis, and patience has never been his strong suit. Niall told him to lock it down and he didn’t realize how much he wanted to until Liam told him he couldn’t.

Eventually Liam will hear the speech because Louis doesn’t think he’ll forget it. Eventually they’ll learn the full extent of what they mean to each other. Eventually Liam will say yes, they’ll spend the rest of their lives together. And it’ll be a laugh.

\----

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! If you need me, I am [here.](http://wickershire.tumblr.com/post/134994680603/title-you-and-me-got-a-whole-lot-of-history)


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